Second Chance: A Dean Ambrose Story
by wwechick
Summary: The year is 1853 in Westpoint Ridge, Texas. A robbery takes place and one of the men responsible turns himself in after returning what was stolen. He wants a better life for himself, a new beginning. With the aide of some friendly town folk, Dean Ambrose discovers himself, love, and learns that even in life, he deserves a second chance. Dean Ambrose/Mark Calaway/OC and many more.
1. Chapter 1

**Second Chance: A Dean Ambrose Story**

**Prologue:**

It was a cool, starry night in Texas. The moon was full and was shining brightly. Crickets chirped, an owl hooted, and a wolf howled off in the distance as 3 men were sleeping on their bed rolls, their saddles used as a pillow for their heads. However, one more individual was among them. He was wide awake, staring up at the full moon. The young long brown haired, bearded, blue-eyed 29 year old cowboy knew the sun would be coming up in a couple of hours. He knew what he had to do, but he had to be quick and very quiet. The 3 men sleeping around him had robbed a bank earlier that night and regrettably, this young 29 year old went along with it, takes bags among bags of cash.

The leader of the group Paul Levesque, along side Randy Orton and Dave Batista didn't give the slightest show of regret for robbing the bank last night. Neither man gave a rat's tail about it and didn't give a hoot. As for the 4th man, Dean Ambrose was full of regret. He knew what had happened was wrong, yet he went along with it anyway. His deceased parents would be so ashamed of him and rightfully so. His guilty conscience was hitting him hard like a 10-lb sledgehammer to the head.

Dean rolled up his bedding, grabbed the bags of money and attached the items to his horse. He climbed high into the saddle casting on final look at the 3 still sleeping frames on the ground. Dean Ambrose rode into the early hours back to town to return the money which was stolen, and to turn himself in.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1**

Sheriff Shawn Michaels was sitting in his office when he herad the news of the bank robbery. People of the town were gathering around to see what in the world was going on. He had a rather difficult time getting through the sea of people to actually get inside the bank

"Alright, everyone!," Sheriff Michaels said over the voices of the town folk. "Excuse me! The sheriff is here! There's nothing much to see here. So everyone go on back home or work or whatever you were doing. You may all leave now. Go on!"

Sheriff Michaels began shooing people were gone, he went in search of the man whom owned the bank. He found the owner standing in the doorway of the vault. He was a tall, gangly-looking man in his 50's, gray hair, wire-rimmed glasses.

"Hey, Nelson. What's the scoop?"

"Well other than the obvious of the bank being robbed last night," Nelson started to say. "Whatever was stolen was brought back in it's entirety."

The last statement confused the sheriff and he cocked an eyebrow. "Care to clarify that for me, Nelson?"

"Gladly. Apparently, he was one of them that was behind the robbery last night. He's in the back room if you wish to see him. He simply requested to speak to an authority figure. You."

Sheriff Michaels nodded before asking Nelson to lead the way. The two men approached a room where the door was closed. Nelson opened the door to reveal the long brown-haired man sitting at a table, head hanging low, his fingers locked together behind his head. The young cowboy looked up when he heard the door open. Sheriff Michaels at the young man, whose eyes were full of guilt.

"Would you excuse us, Nelson? Please?"

Nelson left the room without a single word closing the door behind him. Sheriff Michaels walked over to the opposite side of the table and sat down in a chair opposite the man. He eyed him with suspicion before he spoke.

"What's your name, boy?"

"Ambrose," the man said, his voice as soft as a coo of a dove with a hint of raspiness. "Dean Ambrose."

"Mr. Ambrose. Need I remind you of what trouble you're in?"

Dean took a deep breath before answering the sheriff's question. "I realize that, sheriff. I really do. That's why I wanted to try and attempt to make things right by bringing back what's been stolen."

"You also know that I have to arrest you."

"Understood, sir."

Sheriff Michaels leaned forward crossing his arms on the table. "Here's what I don't understand. You want to make things right. What possessed to do such a stupid thing like that?"

"It's like you said. It was a stupid thing to do. 'I'm sorry' I suppose won't make it any better. So the only thing that would make things better is if I give you the names of the other 3 involved, and you slapping the cuffs on this piece of garbage in front of you."

The sheriff slumped back into his chair. He had never met anyone like Dean Ambrose in his life. "You being smart with me, Ambrose?"

"Nope. Just being honest."

Sheriff Michaels huffed a breath before speaking. "You can give me the names of the other 3 individuals when we get back to the jail house. But now..." The sheriff took a pair of handcuffs out of his back jeans pocket. "Stand up."

Dean did as was requested. Sheriff Michaels pulled Dean's arms behind his back and cuffed his wrists. He then turned Dean around so he could look him straight in the eye.

"Not resisting arrest, Ambrose?"

"Because this is what I deserve. I did wrong. I'm better that this. I don't want to tread the same path my uncle tread. I want a home, a job. Maybe even a wife and kids. I want a better life. Cause I fear that if I didn't turn myself in today, I would not have stopped at this bank. It would have progressed further. That's not the life I want for myself. I know I can be better than this. If this is how it starts, then," Dean shrugged his shoulders. "So be it."

"You're a bright young man, Dean Ambrose. Maybe I could help you get your life turned around."

"Why would you help me?"

"Well, for some reason...I believe you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 2**

Mark Calaway was driving a horse-drawn carriage into Westpoint Ridge, with his daughter Alyssa Calaway sitting by his side. They pulled up to Miss Maggie's General Store where Alyssa worked. Mark gently pulled on the reins until the carriage came to a complete stop. Mark jumped down from his seat and walked in front to pet his horses on their noses before walking over to assist his daughter off the carriage. She rose from her seat and Mark grabbed her by the waist and gently lowered her to the ground.

"Thank you," Alyssa said looking up at her father. "Thanks for the ride to work too."

"You're very welcome." Mark said looking down at his 26 year old. brown haired, hazel-eyed daughter. "I had to come in for some supplies anyway, so I thought I'd drop you off and pick up my supplies while I was here."

Mark escorted Alyssa to the front of the general store and opened the door for her letting her enter first. Miss Maggie, an elderly woman with salty-colored hair in her mid 70's was the first to spot them. She walked up to them with a warm smile on her face.

"Morning, Alyssa," she greeted warmly. "Morning, Mark."

"Morning, Maggie," came Alyssa's greeting.

"Ma'am," Mark replied tipping his hat to her.

Maggie walked up to the two, hugging each one. "Oh, Mark. You raised a wonderful daughter."

"Thank you, Miss Maggie."

Miss Maggie turned towards Alyssa. "I've known your father for many years. Did I ever tell you that?"

"Yes, you did," Alyssa answered with a smirk. "Many times as a matter of fact."

Miss Maggie again turned her eyes towards Mark. "He was a polite young man then. He's still a polite young man now," she said reaching up to lightly pinch his left cheek.

"Thank you again," Mark said, a slight blush appearing on his face. "As for the 'young' part, I'm pushing 50 next year."

"You're still young to me," Miss Maggie commented with a light slap to Mark's cheek.

"You're too kind," he said looking down, a full blush showing on his cheeks.

Alyssa chuckled at her father, shaking her head. "Do you have that list on you? I'll go gather those supplies up for you."

Mark reached into his shirt pocket fishing out the list and passing it on to his daughter. She walked away, list in hand to gather the supplies for her father.

"Would you like some coffee while you wait?" Miss Maggie asked Mark. "We have some freshly brewed."

"I would love some. Thank you."

Miss Maggie pointed Mark in the direction where a coffee pot sat on a table and a woman with blond hair was putting out the sugar and milk. She looked up to see Mark approach and a wide smile quickly appeared.

"Morning, Mark."

"Morning, Ma'am." he greeted with a warm smile and a tip of his hat.

"How many times must I tell you? Call me Michelle."

"Yes, Miss. McCool." Michelle McCool tilted her head to the side, a corner of her mouth turning up in a slight grin. Mark threw his hands up in mock defense. "Okay. You win. Michelle."

"Much better," she replied chuckling. When Michelle chuckled or spoke his name, it was like angels singing a heavenly tune. It was music to his ears.

"You know I love picking on you."

"Yeah, I'm beginning to think it's become a bit of a habit for you too. I mean, what was I to expect after dating you for 2 and a half months."

"Sure. You're just as cute now as when I first met you."

"Well..." he said with a click of his tongue and a shrug. "I'm not sure how you call bumping into you by accident, knocking the few apples and a full carton of eggs to the ground 'cute'."

"It was how you kept apologizing. Plus it was your green eyes and your Southern accent that drew me in." Michelle changed the subject. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Sure. I could use a quick pick-me-up this morning."

"Coming up," Michelle said wrapping her arms around the back of Mark's neck pulling him down towards her until her lips connected with his in a light peck on the lips. Mark pulled back licking his lips. "How's that?"

"I'm hoping for seconds."

"Of course."

Mark leaned down and kissed her lovingly, pouring everything he had into it. They broke apart a few seconds later wanting to catch their breaths.

"Better?"

"Better," Mark answered. "I had better go check to see if Alyssa is almost done gathering the supplies." Mark stepped away from Michelle.

"So...no coffee then?"

"No thanks. I've had my pick-me-up for the morning." he answered with a wink. "Have a nice day."

"You too."

Mark tipped his hat again before walking away in search of his daughter.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 3**

Alyssa assisted her father carry the supplies to the carriage.

"Are you sure you have everything before you head home?" Alyssa asked her father.

"Yep. I'm pretty sure. I checked everything off the list even," Mark confirmed.

"That's good."

Mark unloaded his arms, the reached for the supplies in Alyssa's grasp to place in the carriage. Alyssa looked up into her father's green eyes and he looked a little distracted and lost in thought.

"Father?"

"Hmm?"

"What's on your mind?"

"Michelle."

"A-HA!," Alyssa exclaimed smiling. "I knew it."

"I just hope I'm not making a big mistake."

Alyssa's smile quickly faded as it had appeared. "Mistake? Why?"

Mark took off his black cowboy hat, running a hand through his short hair. He turned his eyes downward to the dirt street, kicking the dust with his boot. It was then Alyssa understood what was bothering him.

"Oh..." she said after a few seconds. "Mom."

"Yeah," Mark replied still looking down at the street. "Morgan."

Morgan Calaway lost her life to a serious illness just 5 years ago. Alyssa was 21 and Mark was 44. The passing of this beautiful woman took a rather difficult toll on the both of them. Alyssa was so worried and wondered if he would ever find happiness again. She knew his happiness was renewed when he met Michelle McCool.

"Why are yo so worried about mom?"

"I don't..." he began to say before looking up to the heavens, then looked at his daughter. "I don't want my relationship with Michelle to be an issue for you."

"An issue?" she asked confused.

Mark took a deep breath before proceeding to speak. "I don't want you, the only family I have left, to think that Michelle is trying to replace your mother."

"Replace?"

"I don't want you to be angry with me or hate me."

These words cut Alyssa to the core. It broke her heart in two to hear him speak this way. Her eyes glistened with tears as well as his.

"Hate? Angry? Dad, I'm not, nor have I ever thought, that Michelle was going to try to replace Mom. I'm not gonna be angry or hate you either, cause what kind of daughter would I be?" Alyssa walked up and wrapped her arms around her father. Mark wrapped his strong protective arms around her gladly returning the embrace.

"Dad, I'm happy you found Michelle McCool. I love Michelle too. In my opinion, she's the best thing that I've seen happen to you in 5 years."

"I just don't want you to think that I'm betraying Morgan. You know I loved her."

"I know you did, Dad. But..." She pulled back to look at her father. "Remember what Mom said on her death bed to you? She said she wanted you to find someone who would care for you and love you like she did. She wanted you to find happiness again, and that what I wanted for you too. And if Michelle makes you happy, then that's all that matters to Mom and I. Everybody deserves a second chance, even in love."

Mark could only smile at his daughter, and reached up to wipe a single tear which went down her cheek. "Wow. You are so much like your mother." He pulled his daughter close again and kissed the top of her head. "I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, Alyssa." He pulled her away from him. "You had better get back to work before you get in trouble."

"Yeah. Thanks again for the ride. I'll see you later."  
>"Bye, sweetie." Mark said as Alyssa went back into the store. Mark wiped the tears from his eyes. He went to put his hat back on his head only to see a beautiful monarch butterfly land on the brim of his hat. He glanced at it for a while before it flew away. He chuckled softly to himself.<p>

"Morgan loved butterflies too."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 4**

Sheriff Michaels approached Mark before he could get back on the carriage and head home.

"Hey, Mark."

"Sheriff Shawn Michaels. How the heck are ya?" he greeted shaking the sheriff's hand.

"Just fine. You?"

"Doing well. Thank you for asking."

"So what can I do for you today?"

"Why automatically, when you see me, do you think I need something from you?"

"Hmm. Fix the office door, help hang the sheriff sign just to name a few."

"Okay, okay, okay. Maybe I do ask a little much."

"Relax Shawn. I'm just giving you a hard time as always."

"Like you never cease to do."

"Exactly."

"But, in all seriousness though..."

"Okay. I'll take the bait. What do you need help with?"

"Well..." Sheriff Michaels began to hesitate.

"Come on, man. Tell me."

"Okay. I'll tell you. It's kinda big."

"How big is big, Shawn?"

Sheriff Michaels wrapped an arm around Mark. "Walk this way and I'll explain on the way."

Dean Ambrose was looking out the window of his jail cell. The thoughts of the jail heist racing through his mind. He was ashamed; ashamed of himself, ashamed of the other 3 involved, ashamed of it all. He was being honest with Sheriff Michaels when he said he wanted to turn his life around.

Dean wasn't much of a praying man, but he had asked God to forgive him of his sin. However, he seriously doubted that God had heard him. He doubted that God would listen to a low-life piece of scum like himself.

His racing thoughts were put to rest when he heard heavy footfalls approach and a key turn in the lock of the cell door. Dean turned to see a mountain of a man enter the cell, shutting the door behind him with a loud *clang*. The man had a sick smirk across his facial features. He was the most intimidating individual Dean had ever laid eyes on and at almost 7 feet tall. Dean didn't scare easily, but the presence of this monster scared him. He was even more intimidated when this man spoke

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here." He turned his nose to the air in a mock sniff. "I knew I smelled trash in this dump."

Dean's back was literally against the wall. He was shaking in his boots. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"The name's Kane. As for what I want..." Kane began stalking towards Dean. "I want to serve justice."

Dean couldn't stop himself from asking. "How?"

"How?" Kane's big hand reached out and grabbed Dean by the throat holding him against the wall. Dean began gasping, coughing, trying to catch his breath, but Kane's grip was so tight. "Does this answer your question of how?"

Kane threw Dean to the floor in the middle of the cell. Dean was massaging his throat, gasping for air. Kane just stood there shaking his head in disgust. He walked up to Dean when he made it to his hands and knees. Kane delivered a vicious kick to Dean's midsection causing him to roll across the floor.

"I will serve justice the way it is meant to be served."

Kane delivered another kick to the midsection causing Dean to roll across the floor again. He groaned loudly, curling up into a ball, his arms favoring his stomach. Kane used his foot to roll Dean onto his back. Kane knelt down to Dean's level.

"Please..." Dean whispered looking into Kane's miscolored eyes. "Stop."

"Stop? I'm just getting started."

Kane followed up his statement with a hard right hand to Dean's face, following with a left hook and another right hand. He was ready to unload with another punch to the face when the cell door opened and two men stepped in to pull Kane away from Dean. They forced Kane stomach first onto the cot in the cell and pulled his arms behind his back. Kane grunted and struggled, but failed.

"TAKE THESE CUFFS OFF OF ME!" Kane growled loudly.

"It's for your own good!" one sheriff said.

The two men pulled Kane to his feet. Kane panted heavily.

"Roman Reigns. Seth Rollins. I'll have your badges for this."

"That's where you're wrong," Sheriff Roman Reigns said standing in front of him.

"How would you feel if we came along and started beating the crap out of you?" Sheriff Seth Rollins stated behind Kane.

Just then, Sheriff Michaels and Mark Calaway made their presence known walking over to the holding cell. "What's the meaning of this?" Sheriff Michaels demanded.

"Kane was beating up on Dean Ambrose!" Sheriff Rollins replied.

Sheriff Michaels and Mark saw Dean curled up in a corner of the cell, his head lowered, his arms circling his midsection.

"Roman, Seth, get Kane out of here. Put him in an empty cell."

Sheriff Reigns and Sheriff Rollins escorted Kane out of Dean's cell. Sheriff Michaels ripped the badge from Kane's lapel of his vest, then threw it to the floor. "Get him out of here." As soon as the 3 men were out of sight, Sheriff Michaels turned to look at Mark, whom was still looking at the man in the corner.

"Mark?" Mark turned his eyes towards his friend. "Would you do me a favor and stay here with Dean while I go get a doctor?"

"Sure."

Sheriff Michaels walked out of the sheriff's office in search of the town doctor. When Sheriff Michaels was gone, Mark stepped into the cell and knelt down in front of Dean. He reached forward and lifted Dean's head to examine the damage done at the hands of Kane. Bloody nose and mouth, cut on his right cheek. Mark shook his head in disgust. Dean's eyes were full of pain and fear. He winced when Mark's hand found his ribs.

"It's alright, Dean. That man won't hurt you again. The sheriff has gone for the doctor. You're safe now."

Dean looked up into this man's eyes whom were full of concern and kindness. "Who are you?"

"The name's Mark. You just hold on, son. You'll be alright."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 5**

Sheriff Michaels, Sheriff Reigns, Sheriff Rollins and Mark Calaway sat around in the sheriff's office while the doctor was with Dean Ambrose in the back room patching him up. Sheriff Reigns and Sheriff Rollins were standing by a window of the office chatting amongst themselves.

"Can you imagine what the headlines would say in tomorrow's paper?" Sheriff Reigns asked his partner Sheriff Rollins.

" 'Man Whom Robs Bank, Beaten In Holding Cell By Former Sheriff." Sheriff Rollins answered.

Sheriff Michaels and Mark were conversing amongst themselves by the sheriff's desk.

"I can't believe this happened, " Sheriff Michaels said, his head hanging low, hat in his hands, pacing back and forth in front of Mark, whom sat perched on the edge of the desk. "You can't blame yourself for this, Shawn," he said in a comforting tone. "None of this is your fault."

Sheriff Michaels turned his eyes up to his friend. "Not my fault, you say?" Sheriff Michaels stopped pacing and stood in front of Mark. "How can you say it's not my fault, Mark? I left him alone in that cell! I left the building for 5 minutes!"

"You didn't know this was going to happen, Shawn!"

Sheriff Michaels took a deep breath to calm him down before speaking again. "But if I would have known his thoughts..."

"Nobody knows Kane's thoughts except for God and Kane."

Just then, the doctor came from the back room, Dean Ambrose in tow behind him. Sheriff Michaels approached the doctor. "Thank you for coming over here. Other than the obvious bruises, any other marks?"

"He has a couple bruised ribs which I wrapped up. He's lucky that your other two sheriffs were there, otherwise it could have been a lot worse."

"Yeah."

"I have to go now. If you need anything else, let me know."

"Thank you doctor."

The doctor left the sheriff's office. Sheriff Roman and Sheriff Rollins walked up to Dean noting the bruised and cut cheek, and a cut lip. His nose was a little swollen.

"You okay?" Sheriff Reigns asked.

"Yeah." Dean said nervously. "I would thank you both properly, but I don't know your names."

"Sheriff Roman Reigns and this is my partner Sheriff Seth Rollins."

Dean shook their hands individually as Mark and Sheriff Michaels walked up.

"Care to have a seat, Mr. Ambrose?" Sheriff Michaels offered.

Dean walked to a chair to sit down. "Do you need anything else, Sheriff Michaels?" Sheriff Rollins asked.

"No, thank you boys. Why don't you guys head on home and take the rest of the day off? Mark, I need you to stay here."

"Sure."

Sheriff Reigns and Sheriff Rollins left the office without another word. Sheriff Michaels and Mark pulled up a chair and sat next to Dean to ask him some questions.

"So, Dean," Mark began. "Sheriff Michaels told me some things about you. I have to admire you for wanting to turn your life around."

"Thank you, sir."

"Where are you from?"

"I was born in Missouri. But I was raised here in Texas by my uncle after my parents died. My uncle is 3 years younger than my father. But there is something I haven't told you about yet."

Sheriff Michaels looked at Mark before looking back at Dean. "Go on."

Dean took a deep breath, then winced at the pain in his ribs. "Ambrose is not my last name. It's my middle name."

This confused both men. "Well, if Ambrose isn't your real last name," Sheriff Michaels began to ask. "Then what is it?"

Dean took a breath running his hands over the pant legs of his jeans. "It's...Levesque. My name is Dean...Ambrose...Levesque."

The sheriff took the notepad out of his vest pocket and opened it to the page where 3 names were written on it. One name popped out among the others. He looked up at Dean, shock in his eyes.

"No."

"Yes. Paul Levesque is my uncle."

Mark became more confused. "Who?"

"Paul Levesque is one of the men, along with Dean, whom was behind the bank heist last night."

"I'm sure he knows by now that the money is gone, the money I returned to the bank. But if he finds out I turned him and his buddies in, he'll come after me and kill me." Dean hung his head low. "There's nowhere for me to run, nowhere for me to hide."

Mark looked at the sheriff before speaking up. "Dean, Sheriff Michaels suggested something to me."

Dean looked up at Mark. "What?"

"You're coming home with me."

"WHOA! NO, no, no, no." Dean exclaimed. "Look, I appreciate your help, but I don't want charity. I can't accept your offer."

"Why not?" Sheriff Michaels asked.

" What if he finds out where I'm at?"

"He won't. Trust me. Plus, Sheriff Michaels told me you wanted a job. I could use some help on my ranch when you're healed. You can use the guest room as long as you want."

Dean looked into the sincere eyes of Mark. "Why do you want to help me after what I've done?"

"Because everyone deserves a second chance, even in life. That's what my daughter taught me...a long time ago."

"How did she teach you?"

"That's for another time. Just know that I'm not the same man I was 5 years ago. She helped me, now I want to help you."

Dean looked up at Sheriff Michaels, then looked up at Mark once more before giving in to his offer to help him. After all, Dean had no other choice.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 6**

Paul Levesque was pacing back and forth, kicking up dust, mumbling angrily to himself, while his two cohorts Randy Orton and Dave Batista stood next to each other. Paul was irate, furious. When he woke up to count the money from the bank heist last night, he woke up instead to find the money gone...all gone. Even he discovered Dean Ambrose was nowhere to be seen.

"No money," Paul muttered. "No Dean Ambrose."

"He took off with all our money," the man named Dave Batista stated.

Paul stopped with his back turned to the 2 men. "That no-good, rotten, dirty, stinking, son of a...When I get my hands on him..." Paul was so frustrated, he couldn't finish his sentence.

"What do you plan on doing when you find your nephew?" the man known as Randy Orton asked. Paul heard the last word come out of Randy's mouth and growled lowly.

"What...did you say?"

"I said 'What do you plan on doing when you find your nephew'?"

Paul turned to face Dave and Randy, then stalked towards them. "I'm talking the last word...nephew."

"Yeah," Randy answered with a shrug.

"He is your nephew, isn't he?" Dave asked.

Paul slapped both of them side-by-side hard across the face. "HE'S NOT MY NEPHEW!" He roared out loud. He paused to take a deep breath before speaking again. "Not anymore. He betrayed me. He betrayed you. He stabbed us in the back. Because of his actions against us, I disown him. I have no nephew."

Paul walked over to his horse to retrieve his trusy six-shooter from one of the saddlebags. He checked the gun for bullets, then closed the hammer in satisfaction when he had seen it was fully loaded. He grabbed his bandana from his back jeans pocket and began rubbing his gun.

"Don't worry about a thing, Mr. Levesque," Dave began to say. "We'll help you find him. Won't we Randy?"

"Absolutely, Dave," Randy agreed nodding his head. "And when we do, we'll kill him."

Paul looked at the 2 men again. "_I'll_ find him and _I'll _kill him myself. I don't need distractions. And by distractions, I mean..." Paul aimed the six-shooter at Dave and Randy. "...you."

Dave and Randy looked at each other, then looked back at the gun held firmly in Paul's hand. The both began stepping backwards, hands up in defense.

"Whoa, whoa whoa, boss." Dave said nervously. "Take it easy."

"Calm down. Put the gun down." Randy pleaded.

"Relax, gentlemen," Paul said reassuringly. "I'll put the gun down." Paul lowered the gun to his side causing Dave and Randy to sigh with relief. Paul aimed the gun again and fired a bullet into Dave's chest. Dave fell backwards into the dust. Randy looked at Dave, then back at Paul. Paul cocked the gun again. He glared at Randy sinisterly.

"Say hello to Dave for me...in hell."

"No, wai..."

Randy didn't finish his sentence as the bullet found itself between Randy's eyes. He fell face-down in the dirt.

"Oh, I'll lower the gun alright, when you two are dead, and when Dean is dead."

Paul gave his gun a twirl, then put it in his gun-holster at the hip. He adjusted the black cowboy hat atop his head, and spit into the dirt. He glanced at the 2 corpses at his feet as a twisted smirk appeared on his face.

"Oh I'll find you alright, Dean Ambrose. And when I do...you're a dead man."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 7**

Alyssa Calaway was walking to the doorway to her house with Michelle McCool beside her.

"Thanks for giving me a ride home, Michelle."

"Not a problem, Alyssa. Anytime."

Alyssa turned the knob on the door allowing Michelle to enter the house first.

"Dad, I'm home."

"In the living room, honey," Mark hollered out.

Alyssa and Michelle walked in the living room to see Mark sitting on the couch talking with someone. Mark rose to his feet and walked over to where Alyssa and Michelle stood.

"Hey, sweetheart," Mark said greeting Alyssa with a hug.

"Hi, dad." she replied returning the hug.

"Hey, Michelle," he greeted with a quick peck on the lips and a hug.

"Hey, Mark."

Mark pulled away from Michelle and stood by his daughter. "Thanks again for giving Alyssa a ride home."

"It was no trouble at all, Mark."

"So, dad," Alyssa spoke up. "What's the deal here?"

"Yeah, Mark. What's going on?"

"Well, allow me to explain." Mark turned his attention towards the couch in the front room. "Dean. Could you come in here please?"

Dean arose from his place on the couch and approached Mark and the two women. Alyssa and Michelle gasped when they saw the bruises on this man's face.

"Oh, my," Michelle gasped.

"Dad, what happened to him?"

"He had a little trouble earlier today. Somebody roughed him up a bit."

Dean looked down at the floor slightly embarrassed. "Forgive me," he said speaking softly. "I must look terrible. But it looks worse than it feels, I assure you."

"Dean Ambrose, this is Michelle McCool."

"Hello, Dean," Michelle said extending her hand.

"Ma'am," Dean answered looking up, shaking her hand.

"And this is Alyssa Calaway."

"Nice to meet you, Dean," Alyssa said extending her hand to him.

"Nice to meet you too, Ma'am." he said shaking her hand also.

However, when they shook hands, it was somewhat strange. What was it? Was it possible? Were they just imagining? Was that a spark they felt? Alyssa and Dean looked down at their hands still clasped together, then they looked up into each others eyes, without a single word spoken among them.

Uh-oh. Dean wasn't imagining it. Neither was Alyssa. There was a spark. Alyssa couldn't help but notice that even with the bruises on his face, the bruises couldn't hide the softness and gentleness in his eyes, which were pools of blue she was quickly drowning in. Even with the long hair and beard, he was dashingly handsome. Dean thought Alyssa was the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen, her dark shoulder-length hair, hazel eyes, her soft lips. She was the most beautiful person walking on the face of God's green Earth.

After what seemed like an eternity, Dean released Alyssa's hand. It was then that Dean had become extremely nervous. He looked down at the floor again.

"Dean?" Michelle said.

"Dean, are you alright?" Mark asked worriedly.

Dean began panting softly, not looking up at the concerned faces surrounding him. Alyssa placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Dean...what's wrong?" she asked.

Dean looked into Alyssa's eyes and mumbled something. Alyssa didn't understand what Dean had said and asked him to repeat it. "What did you say?"

"I...don't...f-f-feel...ssssoo...good."

Dean's eyes rolled in the back of his head as he began to faint to the right.

"DAD!"

Mark caught him just in time before Dean hit the floor. Michelle came to check his forehead.

"No fever."

"Let's get him up stairs."

Mark hoisted him upon his left shoulder and carried him up the stairs. Alyssa and Michelle followed closely behind. Mark walked to the guest room on the second floor. Mark opened the door and walked over to the bed. Alyssa walked over and pulled the covers away. Mark carefully placed Dean on the bed, then lifted his legs so he was spread out comfortably. Michelled walked over and pulled the boots off of Dean's feet and sat them at the foot of the bed. Alyssa pulled the covers up and over his still sleeping frame.

As soon as Mark, Michelle and Alyssa were satisfied that Dean was okay, they began to exit the room letting Dean sleep peacefully. Before Alyssa was completely out the door, she turned, one hand on the doorframe, to take one more glance at the man known as Dean Ambrose. She was so concerned about this stranger whom had just entered their lives. Mark quietly came up from behind, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Honey," he spoke in a soft tone. "Let's let him get some sleep. He's had a long day."

"Will he be okay," she asked looking up at her father.

"Sure. He just needs some rest. Come on. I want to talk to you for a while."

Mark reached over and softly shut the bedroom door of the guest room. As soon as the door was latched in place, Mark led Alyssa led Alyssa down the stairs leaving Dean to rest for the remainder of the night.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 8**

The next morning found Alyssa and Mark down in the kitchen getting breakfast on the table. The smell of bacon, eggs, and biscuits filled the air. Alyssa had just put two plates of breakfast on the table for each of them.

"Would you like some coffee, dad?"

"Thank you, sweetie."

Alyssa went to the counter to retriever a coffee mug and filled it with the fresh brewed coffee. She placed the mug in front of her father at the kitchen table. The sound of feet walking on the staircase caught their attention. Seconds later, Dean came to stand in the kitchen rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Morning, Dean," Alyssa greeted.

"Hey there, Dean." Mark said.

"Hello," Dean said groggily.

"Sleep well?" Mark queried.

Dean nodded in reply. It was then the event of last night, him feeling dizzy and fainting came back into his mind. He groaned rubbing his forehead.

"I'm so sorry about last night. I must have been an embarrassment."

Mark rose to his feet and walked over to where Dean stood. "Not at all. We're just glad you're okay. I bet you're hungry though. Would you like to join us for breakfast?"

"Is it okay?"

"Of course," Mark answered lightly slapping Dean on the back. "Now why don't you go ahead and have a seat?"

"I'll get your plate fixed up for you." Alyssa said.

Mark let Dean over to the table and held out a chair for him to take a seat. "That's very kind of you. Thank you."

"It's our pleasure," Alyssa said fixing him a plate. "Would you like something to drink? Milk? Juice? Coffee?"

"Milk, please. I never was much of a coffee drinker."

"Just like me,"Alyssa commented placing Dean's breakfast in front of him.

"And after breakfast, we have plans for you," Mark said placing a fork down in front of Dean's plate.

"What plans, Mr. Calaway?" Dean asked as Alyssa sat a glass of milk in front of Dean, then took her seat at the table.

"How about you just call me Mark?" he asked sitting down at the table.

"Mark."

"For starters, you said to the sheriff that you were looking for a job and Sheriff Michaels offered you a job here on my ranch on the weekends. That is if you're interested."

"Sure."

Alyssa offered something to the conversation. "Plus, I could talk to Miss Maggie while we're in town today to see if she could hire you during the weekdays."

"Okay."

"That's settled then. Now plan number 2."

Dean became curious. "What's plan number 2, Mark?"

"After breakfast, we're taking you to the barber shop for a hair cut and a shave."

"But, I don't have any money."

Mark waved his hands in the air. "Not to worry, Dean. I'll take care of that. Besides, with your new look, you'll harldy be recognizable and there would be less of a chance of that man ever finding you."

Dean cast his eyes towards Alyssa, then cast his eyes towards Mark clearing his throat. "Will all due respect to your daughter, sir, I'm pretty sure this is not an appropriate topic to be discussing in the presence of a woman."

"It's okay, Dean," Alyssa said. "Dad tolkd me last night, when you were asleep, about your situation. I think it's incredible how you want to turn you life around."

"You do?"

"Yeah. And besides, I think dad's onto something. Maybe a haircut and a shave would do you some good. It would give you a very slim chance of ever being found, if ever he did come looking for you."

Dean turned his attention back towards Mark, whom nodded in agreement to Alyssa's statement. Dean sighed before speaking again.

"Okay. I'll do it."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 9**

"Okay, young man," Ron the barber, a mid-50's gray haired man, said addressing Dean. "Come on over and have a seat."

Dean took off his hat and passed it to Mark before walking over to sit in the barber's chair. The barber took one look at Dean's face close up.

"My, my, my, sonny. What on earth happened to your face?"

Dean looked up at the barber. "It's a long story."

"He fell off his horse." Alyssa answered for Dean. "He and I were riding our horses a couple of days ago. A snake spooked his horse causing the horse to get frantic and start going crazy. Dean's face smacked into a low tree branch causing him to fall off of his horse and land in a thorny bush. He was a prickly mess."

"Ouch." came Ron's reply. "I've fallen off my horse a few times myself. Very painful."

Dean could only nod. The barbber began looking around and noticed he had forgotten the shaving cream then excused himself before heading to the back room.

Dean cast his blue eyes towards Alyssa. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." she answered with a wink. Dean gladly returned the wink. Mark just chuckled shaking his head back and forth.

"Who knew that my daughter would turn out to be such a fibber. Is that how your mother and I raised you?"

"Dad, I couldn't let Ron know what _really_ happened and how he got those bruises. I was just trying to protect him."

"I'll let it go this time."

"Thank you. I had better get going and head on over to Miss. Maggie's General Store and put a word in for Dean."

"Okay. Good luck."

"Thanks. Good luck, Dean."

"Thank you, Alyssa."

Alyssa turned to walk out the door just as Sheriff Michaels was walking in along with Sheriff Reigns and Sheriff Rollins following a few feet behind him. Sheriff Michaels opened the door for Alyssa allowing her to exit.

"Morning, sheriff."

"Morning, Miss Calaway." Sheriff Michaels greeted tipping his hat.

"Gentlemen." she said greeting Sheriff Reigns and Sheriff Rollins. They both tipped their hats to her.

"Ma'am" they replied in unison before joining Sheriff Michaels in the barber shop.

"How's Dean this morning," Sheriff Michaels said standing by the man in the barber's chair.

"Okay. Nervous, but okay."

"Is he ready for this," Sheriff Rollins asked Mark.

"I think so, Seth."

"You're doing a good thing, Mark," Sheriff Reigns said patting Mark on the shoulder.

"Thanks, Roman."

Ron came back in with the shaving supplies. "Well, hello gentlemen. Come in for a hair cut or a shave today?"

"Actually," Sheriff Michaels answered. "We just came by to check on our friend. Mind if we stick around for a while?"

"Sure. Help yourself to a chair and have a seat." The sheriffs took their seats as Ron wrapped a towel around Dean's throat, then pumped the foot peddle of the barber's chair raising it upward. "Okay, Dean. Are you ready?"

Dean sighed loudly. "Yep."

"Okay. Let's get started."

"So, you'll hire him, Maggie?" Alyssa asked.

"I don't see why we couldn't have some young male help around here. I mean, especially with some heavy packages that come in."

"Thank you, Maggie." Alyssa said before Maggie walked away from the counter, leaving Alyssa to chat with Michelle.

"I have to hand it to your father, Alyssa. I think it's so nice of what he's doing to help Dean out. And you helping him too."

"Thanks, Michelle. Dean wants a better life for himself. This is just the beginning for him."

"I agree."

The bell above the door jingled as Sheriff Michaels, Sheriff Reigns, Sheriff Rollins and Mark walked into the store. Alyssa and Michelle walked towards the 4 men.

Alyssa spoke up. "Well, dad...how did it go?"

"It went really well."

"How does he look?"

A big smile appeared on Mark's face before turning his eyes towards the door. "Dean! Come in here, would you please?"

Alyssa, Michelle, and the 3 sheriffs turned their eyes upon the doorway. Soft foot falls could be heard on the wooded sidewalk outside the store until a tall figure stepped into the doorway frame. Alyssa and Michelle's mouth opened in an 'o' shape.

"Oh, my." came Michelle's reply. Alyssa only just gasped.

Gone was the beard. Dean Ambrose stood before them clean shaven.

"Take off your hat."

Dean looked at Mark before taking his hat off. Gone was the long shoulder length hair. In it's place was short brown hair. Michelle's hand covered her mouth as a gasp escaped her lips. Alyssa could only stare. In her eyes, Dean was even more handsome with his short hair and clean-shaven, his dimples showing more and his blue eyes sparkling even more.

"Girls," Mark spoke. "What do you think?"

"I think you look great," Michelle commented.

Dean walked over to Michelle, taking her by the hand and brought her hand to his lips kissing it lightly. "Thank you, Ma'am."

Mark looked over at Alyssa. "Alyssa. You haven't said a word yet. What do you think?"

A smile crept onto Alyssa's face. She pushed a strand of stray hair behind her ear, a blush coming upon her cheeks. "You look..." the words couldn't come out. She cleared her throat before trying again. "You look...good. Really good."

The right corner of Dean's mouth curved into a smirk as he walked over to Alyssa. He stopped right in front of her. He took her hand in his, brought it up to his lips and kissed it, never once taking his eyes off of her. As he kissed her hand, he let the kiss linger a few seconds longer than he did when he had done this jesture to Michelle, and Alyssa blushed a little more.

He spoke to her, his voice going a tad deeper than he usually spoke. "Thank you...Alyssa."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 10**

It had been a couple of weeks since Dean came to work on the Calaway Ranch. Mark and Dean were outside repairing a top board of a fence which had come loose. Dean lifted the lumber up to the post to nail it in place while Mark held it in place. Mark gave the board a little shake after Dean finished nailing the lumber to the post.

"Well done, lad," Mark commented patting Dean on the back. "I think that's enough lumber work for today."

Dean removed the hat from his head and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his shirt sleeve. "We're good?"

"We are good." Mark wiped the perspiration from his face. "How are your ribs holding up?"

"Good," Dean said rubbing his midsection. "Really well. Thank you for asking."

"Not a problem. I was a little worried after sustaining those injuries, I feared it would bother you."

"Not a problem whatsoever. All is good."

Just then, the sound of a low grumble came from Dean's stomach. Dean looked at his midsection, then looked up at Mark. They both broke out in laughter. "Wow. I guess I worked up an appetite."

"Same here."

At that moment, the sound of a bell ringing caught their ears and they both turned their eyes in the direction of the house.

"Dad! Dean! Lunch is almost ready!"

The two men broke out in a laugh again.

"I guess Alyssa heard our thoughts, huh?" Dean asked.

"I don't know how." Mark stated. "Let's go wash up first, then fulfill our hunger."

Mark and Dean patted their stomachs after consuming 2 cheese sandwich and tomato soup. Alyssa leaned in her chair with a satisfying sigh.

"Well, well, well." Alyssa said. "You two worked hard this morning. Care for some dessert?"

Mark and Dean moaned, their faces in a grimace causing Alyssa to chuckle.

"Relax. Dessert won't be until later on tonight."

"What are we having?" Mark asked sitting upright in his chair.

"Chili and peach cobler."

"Oh...yum" Mark replied.

"Sounds delicious." Dean stated.

Alyssa got up to clear the table of the dirty dishes. Dean quickly stood up from his seat.

"Here, Alyssa. Let me take those dishes for you."

"Oh, no, no, no, Dean. You and dad worked hard this morning. I'll take care of this."

"No, no, no. I insist. You cooked up a nice lunch for us. It's only fair that I clean these dishes from the table from you."

"That is so nice of you, Dean." Alyssa said. "Thank you."

"It's my pleasure, Ma'am," Dean answered with a wink.

Alyssa turned towards the sink. "Well, I guess I could start running some dish water, then."

Dean sat the dishes down on the table and stood in front of Alyssa. "AH!-ta-ta-ta! No you don't." Dean gently took Alyssa by the arm and led her to a chair back at the table. "I'll take care of washing the dishes. My mom wouldn't appreciate it if I let my manly etiquette go to waste. My father wouldn't appreciate it either, that's for sure. You just sit here and I'll handle this. Okay?"

Alyssa looked over at her father, whom only shrugged, then turned her eyes back towards Dean. "Okay. Thank you again."

"My pleasure."

Dean proceeded to gather the dishes and took them to the sink.

"Let me give you a hand there, Dean," Mark said rising from his seat, and began gathering some dishes from the table.

"Thank you, dad."

"Sure. Instead of sitting in here, why don't you go ahead and head upstairs to your room to take a nap."

"Well...okay."

Alyssa walked up stairs to her room. Mark cast his eyes towards Dean. For some strange reason, he felt something brewing between Dean and Alyssa. He could see it the first time they met. He thought he was crazy that first night. It was then he realized that he wasn't crazy. Something was definitely brewing between these two. He was absolutely sure of it.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 11**

The full moon was shining brightly over Texas that night. The wind was blowing softly outside. Dean Ambrose was lying on his back, sound asleep in his bed. Yet, while he was sleeping, a figure lurked outside Dean's bedroom window in a tree. Paul eyed him, not saying a word. He reached forward to see if the window was locked. He smirked when it raised slightly and opened it cautiously and quietly. Once the window was fully ajar, Paul stepped into the room, carefully shutting the window once he was inside the room.

He cautiously approached the bed, not once taking his eyes off of his victim, his prey. He had found him, the man whom had done him wrong, his soon-to-be ex-nephew. Paul reached down and violently shook Dean by the shoulders until he woke up.

"What in the wor..." Dean began to say after fully waking up until his eyes fell upon his Uncle Paul. Before another word was spoken, Paul's big right hand covered Dean's mouth. Dean squirmed under Paul's grasp, grunting, breathing heavily.

"Hello, Dean," he whispered evily. "Remember me?"

Dean continued to struggle until he brought his feet up knocking Paul away from him. Dean panted heavily rising from the bed. He attempted to make a run towards the bedroom door to escape, only to be tackled from behind, landing on the floor with a grunt. Dean tried crawling towards the door, only to have Paul rise and stomp on his back, causing Dean to cry out in pain.

"Big mistake trying to run, Dean." Paul sneered.

Dean looked up at his attacker. Paul delivered a hard right backhand causing Dean to groan through gritted teeth. Paul lowered himself to Dean's level, and turned Dean onto his back, landing a right hook to Dean's jaw.

"You betrayed me, boy. Now you will suffer dearly."

Paul socked Dean hard in the stomach. Dean coughed and groaned, gasping. Paul gripped Dean hard by the chin forcing his blues eyes to lock on his.

"Take a good look at me, boy, cause this is the last thing you will ever see."

Paul's big hands wrapped around Dean's throat. Dean coughed, gagged, gasped for breath. Paul's hand around Dean's neck became tighter, and tighter...and tighter.

Alyssa came out of her room in a hurry. She made a mad dash to the bedroom next door and banged on the door with her fists.

"DAD! DAD! WAKE UP!" She pounded on the door again until her dad opened the door rapidly.

"Alyssa, what the devil is going on?!" Mark demanded.

"There...there...there..." The words couldn't come out of her mouth

Mark grabbed Alyssa by the arms. "Alyssa! Speak to me!"

"There's something wrong with Dean!"

"What?"

"I heard him screaming and banging on the walls. I think he's having a nightmare."

"Okay. You stay here and I'll go wake him up. Don't move. Understand?"

"Okay."

Mark released Alyssa and made a bee-line towards Dean's room. He opened the door to find Dean squirming on his bed.

"NOOOO!"

Mark took 3 big strides and walked over to the bed, calling his name.

"DEAN! WAKE UP!"

"HELP!"

"DEAN! IT'S MARK! WAKE UP!"

"HELP ME!"

"WAKE UP, I SAID!"

Without warning, Dean swung out and connected with Mark's jaw, his head snapping back. Dean then sat up in bed, panting heavily. Dean looked up at Mark wide-eyed, whom was massaging his jaw. Mark turned his eyes towards Dean.

"Mark," he said after taking a couple of breaths.

Mark felt something running down his chin. He reached up with his left thumb; blood. He looked at the blood, then looked back at Dean.

"I'm sorry," Dean whispered. "I thought...I thought you were...I thought you were..."

Dean couldn't even finish his apology and broke into tears. He brought his knees up, wrapping his arms around them. He lowered his head to his knees and wept uncontrollably.

Mark turned when he heard the sound of more sobbing coming from the doorway. Alyssa stood behind him, eyes puffy and red. She walked into the room, walked passed her father and walked towards Dean. She touched him on the shoulder and he looked up. Alyssa wrapped her arms around Dean in a show of comfort, both crying continously.

"It's okay, Dean," Alyssa said rubbing his back. "It's okay. You're safe. It was only a dream." Alyssa pulled Dean away to look into his eyes. "It was only a dream."

Her hand reached up and wiped the tears aways from his cheeks.

Mark couldn't help but notice how close these two had gotten these past couple of weeks. The thoughts he was thinking earlier that day about something brewing between Dean and his daughter floated to the surface of his mind once again. There was no denying it this time. What Mark saw transpire before him was enough to convince him that without a shadow of a doubt, these two were slowly growing emotions for one another; emotions which soon enough, would not and could not be denied.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 12**

Alyssa made her way downstairs the next morning, still a little exhausted from the night before. She had heard dishes being put away in the kitchen and turned the corner to see her father putting the last piece of silverware in the top drawer.

"Hey, dad," she said with a yawn.

"Morning, Alyssa." Mark said walking towards his daughter. He pulled her into a hug. "How did you sleep last night?"

"It took me a while to get back to sleep, but, okay I guess. I said a little prayer for Dean in hopes he would sleep better."

"That was nice of you, hon."

"Is he still asleep?"

"No. He took his horse for a little ride. He said it helped him feel better after a hard night's sleep."

"How's your lip?"

Mark ran the tip of his tongue over the cut on his lower lip. "It's fine."

"Does it hurt much?"

"Nah. The punch took me by surprise more than it hurt."

Mark reached for Alyssa's arms and rolled up her sleeves one after the other looking at the biceps. He had remembered he had grabbed her last night when she wasn't speaking clearly in trying to explain what was going on with Dean.

"I didn't hurt you last night, did I?"

Alyssa looked down at her arms, then looked back up at her father. "No, you didn't hurt me. Not even a mark."

Mark rolled her sleeves down on her nightgown. "I was afraid I had hurt you...again."

_'Again?'_ Alyssa thought to herself. It was then she remembered that day 5 years ago in the barn.

"Dad...that was a long time ago."

"I know, Alyssa. But, I thought..." Mark looked down at the floor sighing loudly.

"Dad...I forgave you for that. Remember?"

"I know. I felt I didn't deserve it."

"Everybody makes mistakes. It doesn't mean we can't be forgiven for them."

"Yeah. You're right."

Mark led Alyssa to a chair at the kitchen table. Mark pulled a chair and sat it in front of his daughter. He took both her hands into his after he sat down across from her. There was something he wanted to talk to her about.

"Alyssa, I have noticed how close you and Dean have gotten over these past couple of weeks."

Alyssa looked down at the floor as if something were wrong. Mark lifted her chin with one hand. "Hey, hey, hey. I'm not saying it's bad. I think it's nice of you being Dean's friend."

"You don't see anything wrong with that?"

"Not at all, Alyssa," Mark said smiling, patting her hands. "Not at all. Plus..." Mark added with a click of his tongue. "I think...you have feelings for him."

A deep blush appeared on her cheeks. "Is it that obvious?"

The right corner of Mark's mouth turned up into a smirk. "Pretty obvious."

*BANG*

Paul was doing some target practice with his six-shooter, shooting empty beer bottles. All that time, he wished it was Dean he was shooting at. He cocked the gun again, aimed and fired.

*BANG*

Another bottle down.

"Oh, Dean," Paul said outloud. "You deserve what's coming to you...and you won't like it. Not...one...bit."

*Click, BANG*

"Your time on this Earth is getting rather slim."

*Click, BANG*

"You will pay...with your _life!"_

*Click, BANG*

Paul lowered the gun to his side, adjusting the tan hat atop his head with the other hand. Paul licked his lips, then took a deep breath.

"You crossed the line, Dean Ambrose. That was a big mistake. I will find you. And when I do, I will end you forever. I'm coming for you."

Paul brought his gun up again, aiming it at the last bottle on a rock 6 yards away. He pulled back on the hammer, and aimed.

"Be prepared to meet your maker, Dean...Ambrose."

*BANG*


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 13**

That Sunday morning found Mark, Alyssa, and Dean headed to church for Sunday morning service. The church was painted white with a steeple and a cross at the tip of the steeple. The bell was chiming letting people in Westpoint Ridge know that church was about to begin. Dean was a little nervous and had explained to Mark, after Alyssa had invited him to church yesterday. She thought it would help him after the nightmare a couple of nights ago. Dean told her he wasn't sure someone like him was allowed in church. Mark, without hesitation, said that 'Everyone was welcome to God's house'. Dean donned the best dressed clothes he had, and accompanied Mark and Alyssa that morning to the place of Worship.

The congregation were standing and had just finished singing 'Amazing Grace'. Then the morning prayer was spoken, the congregation sat down in their pews, then the preacher, dressed in his Sunday best, Bible in hand, stepped up to the podium. Dean's eyes opened wider when he recognized the preacher. He nudged Mark, whom sat to his right. Mark looked at Dean before he asked in a whisper.

"The sheriff is the preacher too?" Dean queried quietly.

"Oops," Came Mark's reply. "Sorry. Alyssa didn't tell you?"

"No."

Sheriff Michaels, today, was Preacher Michaels. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"Good morning, everyone. It's so wonderful to see you all on this beautiful Sunday morning. For those who are a regular atendee here, welcome. For those whom are visiting, welcome just the same. I would like to talk to you all today for a while about 'forgiveness'. Could someone give me and example of showing forgiveness?"

A little blonde-haired girl spoke up. "Like...when my little brother took one of my toys without asking?"

"Did he say he was sorry?"

"Yes."

"Did you forgive him?"

"Uh...yep."

"Good girl. Wise child. Anybody else?"

A male's voice spoke up then. "When your daughter disobeys you when you tell her not to run in the house cause she could break something."

"Did she break something, Mark?"

"The lamp."

The congregation erupted in laughter.

"What happened then?"

"I sent her to her room for a 15-minute time-out. I went to her room later on and explained what she had done wrong. She told me she was sorry and I forgave her."

"I was a kid," Alyssa said. "I didn't know better."

Preacher Michaels shrugged his shoulders before saying, "Kids."

The congregation laughed once more.

"The Bible says that we are to forgive somebody 70 times 7. Jesus died on the cross so our sins could be forgiven. No matter how big or small the sin, we can be forgiven for it if we ask for it. 'For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God." However, there is some good news, ladies and gentlemen. The Bible also says that 'If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us of our sins, and cleanse us of ALL unrighteousness."

Preacher Michaels continued preaching about the topic of forgiveness and repenting. Dean found himself hanging on to every word the preacher spoke. It got close to the end of the preaching when Preacher Michaels asked if anyone feels they have done something to where they want to ask God for forgiveness that the alters were open and anybody was welcome to come and pray.

Dean thought for a few seconds, then without a second thought, rose from his seat in the pew, and walked up towards the alters. Dean knelt on his knees, bowed his head, folded his hands and prayer, and wept. He prayed, asking God to forgive him of his sins, especially for the bank robbery just a few short weeks ago. He continued to pray until he felt a hand on his upper back. He looked to his left to see Alyssa kneeling beside him, tears in her eyes.

"It's okay, Dean." she said reassuringly.

Dean saw Mark walked towards him. Mark knelt to Dean's right, placing a hand over his daughters. Dean looked into Mark's misty green eyes.

"We're here for you, son."

Dean looked up at the preacher, whom knelt in front of Dean. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Dean simply nodded. "I just want to be forgiven."

"Then let's make it happen. Everyone bow your heads in prayer."

Everyone prayed for forgiveness for their sins, and they prayed for this young man at the alter. The longer Dean prayed, the better he felt. He felt relieved. He felt redeemed. He felt the burdens of sin being lifted off of his shoulders. Above all, he felt forgiven at last. Everyone said 'Amen' and Dean was aided to his ffet by Alyssa and Mark. The preacher just looked at Dean, smiling. He reached out and took hold of Dean's face in his hands.

"Congratulations, my dear boy," Preacher Michaels said. "You are forgiven."

Dean turned his eyes towards the croos behind the preacher, and the man upon the cross, and simply whispered. "Thank you."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 14**

That afternoon, Sheriff Michaels invited Mark, Alyssa, and Dean to accompany him for lunch at Mike's Cafe. They sat around the table talking, telling stories, laughing, eating chili and cornbread, and drinking iced tea. They were just having a grand time. Mark was finishing his story on his first date with his first wife Morgan.

"And if smacking my head on the low tree branch wasn't embarrassing enough, I fell into a thorny bush." Everyone at the table broke out into fits of laughter again. "I tell you what," Mark continued after his laughing ceased. "After coming out of that darn bush, I was a prickly mess."

"Gee. I wonder where I had heard this story before," Dean said casting his eyes in Alyssa's direction. Alyssa was in mid-sip of her tea as she broke out into a blush, remembering she had told the exact same story to the town barber Ron a couple weeks prior. She chuckled softly.

"So tell me this," Sheriff Michaels asked Mark. "How did you know Morgan was the one?"

"It was her caring tone in her voice when she nursed my scrapes and bruises; how gentle her hands were, the concerned look in her eyes. We were sitting underneath a shady tree as she helped clean my face of the dirt and blood splotches. She leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. I leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. We locked eyes with each other for a few seconds. I couldn't take it anymore. I caressed her face, pulled her close, and kissed her. Everything I felt for her, I poured into that first kiss. The was she kissed me back; that was how I knew. I asked her ma and pa for her hand in marriage. They agreed. We got married. 9 months later, my little girl was born."

Mark looked at Alyssa with a wink of his eye and she returned it gladly. Mark continued on with his tale.

"I thought Morgan and I would have grown old together. But, the Lord had other plans. Fast-forward 5 years later, the Lord blessed me with Michelle McCool. I could not have asked for a better life."

"Wow," Sheriff Michaels commented.

"What a wonderful story," Dean said.

"Sheriff Michaels!"

"Hey, Sheriff!" two voices called out. Sheriff Micheals turned to see who was addressing him.

"Roman. Seth." Sheriff Michaels rose to his feet to shake their hands. "Glad to see you both out on this beautiful Sunday."

"Well, it is a beautiful day," Sheriff Reigns stated.

"Mr. Calaway," Sheriff Rollins addressed approaching him, hand extended. "How are you today, sir?"

"Just fine, young man." Mark said shaking Sheriff Rollins' hand.

"Miss Calaway." Sheriff Rollins greeted Alyssa with a tip of his hat.

"Sheriff Rollins. How's life in the justice world treating you and Sheriff Reigns today?"

"Just fine," Sheriff Rollins answered with a smirk.

"The streets of Westpoint Ridge are safe again today, Miss Calaway," Sheriff Reigns added with a smirk of his own.

"Glad to hear that," Alyssa said.

Sheriff Reigns and Sheriff Rollins turned their attention towards Dean.

"Dean Ambrose," Sheriff Reigns said extending his hand in Dean's direction. "Good to see you again, fine sir."

"Likewise, Roman." Dean said rising to his feet to shakeSheriff Reigns hand.

"Anybody giving you a hard time around here, Dean?" Sheriff Rollins asked.

"Nope. Only you two have had that privilege of fullfilling that task."

"You got that right," Sheriff Rollins said before turning his eyes towards his partner. "Get him Roman."

Roman quickly stepped up and put him in a side headlock causing those sitting at the table to laugh again.

"DOGGONE IT, ROMAN!" Dean growled through gritted teeth before Sheriff Reigns released him. Dean rubbed the side of his head as he sat back down in his chair. "WHOO! Dang, man."

Sheriff Reigns and Sheriff Rollins walked away to an empty table laughing to themselves. Dean looked at Sheriff Michaels shaking his head. "How in the world do you put up with them?"

"It isn't hard. By the way. You haven't given me an answer about this coming Friday night's dance at town hall."

"Oh, dear. I don't know. I'm not a very good dancer. Plus, I'm not sure I have anything suitable to wear."

Mark piped up. "Jeans and a nice shirt. There ya go."

Dean heaved a sigh. "Okay. I'll be there. Sounds like fun."

Sheriff Michaels smiled in Dean's direction. "That's the spirit, lad."

The four individuals rose from the table, went to pay for their food, then were on their way out the door. However, little did they know, somebody had eyed the four people leaving the cafe. Paul didn't recognize Dean cause of his new appearance, but his voice was surely unmistakable. He had found him and soon, very soon...the two of them would meet for the very last time.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 15**

Michelle was upstairs in Alyssa's room helping her to get ready for the dance that Friday night. She was helping her put her hair up and aided her in applying a light-colored rouge to her cheeks.

"There you go, Alyssa," Michelle said after she was done. "Go have a look."

Alyssa rose from her spot on the bed and walked over to the full-length mirror to take a glance at her reflection.

"Do you think father will like this?"

Michelle stepped behind her, placing her hands on Alyssa's shoulders. "I highly think...he'll love it."

Mark and Dean were down stairs in the living room sitting on the couch, waiting on the girls. Dean was dressed in blue jeans, brown boots, white long-sleeved shirt, black cowboy hat. Mark was dressed in black dress pants, navy blue long-sleeved shirt, black coat, _sans _hat, and clean-shaven.

"Are you sure I look okay, Mark?" Dean asked nervously.

"Don't worry, Dean," Mark answered. "You look fine. Trust me."

The two men heard footsteps on the stairs. They looked up to see Michelle descending the staircase. She was wearing a short-sleeved green dress and black dress shoes. Mark rose to his feet from the couch and walked up to Michelle. He looked into her eyes for a few seconds before leaning down to kissing her lovingly on the lips. Mark took ahold of her hand and gave her a little twirl admiring her dress.

"You look stunning, Miss. McCool."

"Thank you, Mr. Calaway." She turned her eyes towards Dean, whom also was standing up, hat in hand. "You look really nice yourself, Dean."

"Thank you, Ma'am."

"Where's my daughter?"

Michelle turned her eyes to the top of the stairs, then back at Mark. "She's nervous."

"Why is she nervous?"

"Alyssa?" Michelle called out turning her eyes towards the top of the staircase once more. "Come on down here, sweetie."

"I'm nervous."

"You'll be fine. Just come on down here. Please?"

They heard a sigh escape Alyssa's mouth. "Okay. Here I come."

Michelle stepped away from Mark and stood by Dean.

"Why is she nervous?" Dean whispered to Michelle.

"You'll see."

They heard footfalls descending the stairs until Alyssa came into view. She was dressed in a long-sleeved light pink dress. There was lace around the cuffs of the wrists and at the neckline. When Alyssa stood in front of her father at the bottom of the steps, it literally took his breath away and he gasped at the sight of this beautiful woman. Mark's eyes became misty for two reasons. ONE: He could not believe that this person standing in front of him used to be his little girl. He remembered all those times she was sick and took care of her, read her stories, tucked her in at night, kissed her little head, the first time she said 'dada'...all the wonderful memories of a father loving his daughter. TWO: The dress she was wearing belonged to her mother. Mark remebered how lovely Morgan looked wearing that dress and it fit Alyssa perfectly. It was like looking at a younger version of Morgan.

Mark pulled her into a hug holding her tightly. As he pulled away from her, he quickly wiped the tears away from keeping them falling. Mark took both of his daughters' hands into his.

"Wow," he said. "You look like an angel. I haven't seen this dress in years."

"I was afraid you would be upset at me wearing it."

"No, no, no. Not at all. You look beautiful. You...you really do look like your mother at a young age."

He pulled her into one more hug and kissed the top of here head. He held her at arms length taking in the sight of Alyssa once more before speaking up. "Well, I don't know about you all, but I'm ready to dance. Who's with me?"

Michelle walked up and wrapped her arm around Mark. "Count me in."

Mark and Michelle walked out of the house together. Dean and Alyssa stood looking at each other.

"You do look lovely," Dean commented.

"Thank you. You look pretty handsome yourself."

"Why, thank you, Ma'am," Dean said in a heavy southern accent, placing his hat on top of his head. "Now then..." He extended his hand to Alyssa. "May I have this dance?"

Alyssa chuckled placing her hand into his. "Why, you are just the perfect southern gentleman," she commented in a heavy southern accent of her own. "Yes. Let's dance."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 16**

The town hall was full of men, women, and children dancing the night away. A band consisting of a fiddle, 2 acoustic guitars, a piano, and a banjo played many wonderful songs. Tunes that made you want to tap your foot, twirl around the floor, and tunes that made you want to hold the one you love close. Everyone in attendance was hooting and a hollering, just have loads of fun dancing to their hearts desire.

After about an hour of dancing, Dean and Alyssa found Mark and Michelle off to the side of the dance floor and told them that he and Alyssa were going outside for some air and would be back soon. Dean and Alyssa stood outside of the town hall moments later resting against the wall.

"Oh, boy," Dean began after taking a deep breath. "I haven't had this much fun in what seems like an eternity."

"Well, I'm glad you're having a great time."

"Oh, it's been more than a great time. It's been a night I will never forget." he said smiling down at her, his blue eyes sparkling brightly. Alyssa gladly returned the grin.

"I'm happy you feel that way, Dean. You're a pretty good dancer."

"I was afraid my dancing was a little rusty."

"Well, you, Mr. Ambrose, are in no way, shape, or form, rusty."

"Why, I greatly appreciate that, Miss Calaway."

Dean and Alyssa shared a laugh amongst themselves. A light breeze whipped through the area causing Alyssa to shudder slightly.

"Are you alright?" Dean asked.

"Ooh. That wind was a little cool."

Dean, being the gentleman he was, removed his coat and held it out for Alyssa to put her arms through the sleeves.

"Thank you, Dean. That was really sweet."

"You're very welcome. Do you want to go back inside where it's warmer?"

"Nah. I'm better now. Thank you."

A strand of hair fell in front of Alyssa's face causing her and Dean to chuckle.

"Whoops. Allow me." Dean offered.

Dean reached up with his right hand and gently tucked the strand of brown hair behind her ear. His hand then reached her cheek, caressing it softly and tenderly with his thumb sending chills down her spine. All the while, their eyes stayed locked on eachother. If Alyssa hadn't been standing up against the wall of town hall, she probably would have fallen flat on her face with he knees growing weaker with his touch and his stare.

"Alyssa," he said after a brief silence. "I...um...I have something to confess to you."

"What?" she asked in a whisper.

"I...I think I'm in love with you."

It took a moment for the words to register in Alyssa's mind before she spoke. "You think you're in love with me?"

"Well...'think' is a poor choice of words. I _know_ that I'm in love with you."

Tears came to Alyssa's eyes at Dean's confession of love for her. She let out a deep breath before speaking. "Dean...I'm in love with you."

Dean couldn't believe his ears. He loved her, she loved him, but he had to ask just to make sure he wasn't mistaken. "You...you do?"

Alyssa nodded. "Yes. I do."

A single tear streamed down Alyssa's left cheek. Dean wiped the tear away with his thumb, but he didn't remove his hand from her face. He cupped her left cheek, then brought his left hand up cupping the other cheek with tenderness. He looked deep into her eyes. Dean leaned down until his lips connected with hers. The kiss started with a quick peck, then another peck, then the kiss grew deeper and deeper with emotion. Alyssa opened her mouth slightly allowing Dean entry to deepen the kiss even more. The kiss was full of love for one another. Every ounce of emotion poured out without fail.

Paul Levesque stood by watching in the shadows across the street, watching the young couple. Oh, how he loathed Dean Ambrose, loathed with a passion since his betrayal against him. When he saw the two of them kissing, he seethed. Thoughts raced through his mind such as 'How could Dean be so happy?' and 'Who is this woman?' Paul shook his head in absolute disgust of this show of emotion. Love...pathetic. It was no matter, Paul thought to himself. He would let Dean Ambrose have his night. However soon, very soon, Dean's world would come tumbling down.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 17**

The night was cool and crisp. The only sound that could be heard was the wind blowing softly through the trees. Paul sat perched in the trees, near the Calaway house and glancing through an upstairs window at his prey, his prize, his victim. Paul eyes the sleeping form in the room and knew he had to act quietly and cautiously as to not wake the other occupants on the household.

Paul reached for the window and found that it was unlocked. He raised the window fully ajar and climbed into the room. Once he was entirely in the bedroom, he turned and shut the window behind him. The person sleeping in the bed was facing the wall and totally oblivious to Paul's appearance in the room.

He walked up to the bed, not once taking his eyes away from the still figure. He stared at the person under the covers; sound asleep. He pulled his six-shooter from underneath the back of his shirt and held it out, the coldness of the weapon in his hand. Paul reached out with his left hand and covered the person's mouth so as not to scream out. The still form was now fully awake. Breathing heavily through Paul's hand, Alyssa layed on her back and locked eyes with this intimidation of a man. Her eyes were wide with shock and fear. Paul brought the barrel of his gun to her forehead and spoke menacingly.

"Listen to me and listen close. You will not make a single, solitary sound unless you want your blood spilled all over your pillowcases. If I make myself clear, blink twice if you understand." Alyssa blinked. "Good. Now get up and get your shoes on. You're coming with me."

Mark slowly sat up in bed, tiredly wipin the sleep from his eyes. The sun was shining brightly through his window. He arose from his bed, stretching his arms upward as a yawn escaped his lips. He walked over to the window and admired the scenary, thanking God for another day. It was then he thought he'd heard someone speak his name in a whisper. His eyebrows lowered. With his hands resting on the each side of the window frame, he turned his head towards the door of his bedroom.

"Dean?" he asked out loud. "Is that you?"

Nothing. The room was quiet. Mark just shrugged his shoulders, then turned his attention back to the window. That's when he heard it again; the sound of somebody whispering his name, only this time, it was a tad louder.

_"Mark."_

He turned again, his back now facing the window. He knew he wasn't crazy. Was Dean playing a prank on him? Or was he just hearing his name in his mind?

"Dean?" He called a little louder.

The knob turned on his bedroom door, then the door opened inward revealing Dean standing in the doorway.

"Mark? Are you okay?"

"Did you just say my name?"

"Yeah. Or did you want me to address you as Mr. Calaway again?" Dean asked confused.

Mark shook his head. "No, no, no. I mean just a second ago before you came into the room. Did you say my name then?"

"Be_fore_ I came into your room? Nnnnnoooo I didn't."

Mark shook his head abruptly. "Huh. That's weird."

"Mark...are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm sorry, Dean. I'm must be insane. I thought..."

"_Alyssa..."_

Mark looked at Dean again. "Did you just say 'Alyssa'?"

Dean cocked an eyebrow in Mark's direction.

"I never said a word, Mark. What's going..."

Mark held up one hand as heard the voice in his head speak his daughter's name and this time, added another word. "_Danger..."_

A sharp gasp left Mark's mouth and he was striding towards his bedroom door. He would have knocked Dean over if he hadn't stepped out of the way. Mark went in and barged into Alyssa's room. Dean stood in the doorway of Alyssa's room. Mark went over to the window and looked outside. Nothing was out of the ordinary. He turned toward Alyssa's bed where the blankets were tossed over the side. He noticed a note on her pillow. He walked over to the bed and snatched the note in his hands, reading it to himself. The words of the note tore this father's heart in two. Mark couldn't say anything. His hands began to shake, and he began to pant loudly. He dropped the note onto the floor.

Mark collapsed to his knees and sobbed. Dean rushed over to Mark's side.

"Not...my...daughter." Mark whispered in between sobs. He repeated the 3 words louder. "NOT...MY...DAUGHTER!"

Mark continued to sob tears of angst for his daughter. Who could have taken her? He didn't know. Dean reached for the note and read the heinous words to himself, the very words that tore Mark's world apart.

_I have your daughter. I will do with her whatever I wish without remorse. If you want to see her again, she'll be by the Westpoint Ridge Bridge. Better hurry...before it's too late._

Mark had no clue who this madman was whom abducted Alyssa or why. Dean however, knew why and who had taken her. One name and one name alone was spoken between gritted teeth.

"Levesque..."


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 18**

Mark sat in the sheriff's office, cradling his head in his hands. Michelle sat by his side, one arm around him. Sheriff Michaels, Sheriff Reigns, and Sheriff Rollins stood by the sheriff's desk while Dean stoo by a wall looking out the window.

"Mark," Sheriff Michaels said. "Paul Levesque will not get away with this."

"We'll get your daughter back for you," Sheriff Rollins stated. "Right, Roman?"

"Yeah. Seth and myself will get her back."

"No." Dean piped up causing everyone to turn their eyes on him. He turned his eyes towards the others. "I'll go."

Mark rose to his feet and walked over to where Dean stood. "Dean, that's _my _daughter out there. If anyone is going after her, it's me."

"Mark, you're in the wrong frame of mind. I don't think it's a good idea."

Without warning, Mark grabbed Dean by the collar of his shirt and slammed him backward against the wall.

"MARK! DON'T!" Michelle shouted.

Mark began to raise his voice. "Who are you to tell me I'm not in the right frame of mind?! And furthermore, who are you to tell me it's not a good idea to go after my own daughter?!"

With enough strength and a forceful grunt, Dean pushed Mark away from him and began to raise his voice. "What do you plan to do when you find him, Mark?! Huh?! Kill him?! What's more important?! Killing Paul or your daughter's safety?! I know you love her, but, I love her too!"

That stopped Mark in his tracks and everyone, except Mark, gasped at Dean's last statement.

"What...did you say?"

"I love her! I told her last night at the dance that I was in love her. And guess what? She's in love with me! But that's not why I want to go after her. Paul, my uncle, took her. He took her to get to me and it worked. He's not after your daughter, he's after me. He wants to kill me, I'm sure, after I returned the money to the bank and turned him in. It's my fault Alyssa was taken in the first place." Dean took a few breaths before speaking again. "Like I said, he took your daughter all because of me. I want to make this right. I've wanted to pay you back for helping me get my life back on track, which I am eternally grateful for. I wasn't sure how I was going to pay you back. Now I know how I _can_ pay you back; by retrieving your daughter and bringing her home to you. But the only way I can do that is if you let me. Please, Mark. Let me do this. Let me make this right. I love Alyssa, I really do. I love her just as much as you do."

Mark turned his eyes to Michelle, then to the 3 sheriffs, then back to Dean. He sighed deeply. "You're right, Dean. If I saw the man whom kidnapped my daughter, I probably would kill him. But I'm not a killer." Mark walked back to Dean and placed his large hands atop Dean's shoulders. "Go find my daughter, Dean. Bring her back to me." Mark's eyes became misty. "I beg you. Please."

"Count on it." Dean stepped away from the wall and was walking towards the door when Sheriff Michaels offered his handcuffs to Dean. Dean stuck the cuffs in his back pocket. He walked to the door of the sheriff's office. Before exiting the office, he cast his eyes upon Mark once more. Neither one spoke a word. Without another second going by, Dean was out the door and on his horse to save the woman he loves.

Alyssa sat under the Westpoint Ridge Bridge, her knees brought up to her chest. Her long white nightgown was dirty from lying on the ground without a bed roll. Her face was tear-streaked. All she wanted was to go home. She wanted her father and Dean. Her head was bowed in prayer.

"Please, God. Please, God. Help me. Please, God, help me."

"You actually think God will help you?" Paul said standing over her. His voice startled her and her head shot up, her eyes falling on the man who took her from her home in the middle of the night. "You actually think God will answer your prayer?"

"What do you want with me?" she asked fearfully.

Paul knelt in front of her and reached with his hand to wipe the tears from her eyes. She tried to turn her face away from him. Paul grasped her by the chin forcing her to look at him.

"Oh, your lips look tender and sweet. So tempting. No wonder Dean likes you so much. No wonder he loved kissing you last night. Now I'm curious what it would be like to kiss you. Well...only one way to find out."

Alyssa groaned as Paul forcefully pressed his lips to hers without a care in the world; without remorse. He broke the kiss and released her chin from his palm. He licked his lips in satisfaction. "Wow...no wonder. Not bad. Not bad at all."

Alyssa wiped at her lips with the back of her hand before spitting right in his face. Paul rubbed the spit away from his face with his shirt sleeve before backhanding Alyssa right across the face. Alyssa curled up in a ball on the ground, sobbing loudly. Paul rose to his feet, his face in a scowl.

"Oh, Alyssa. You're gonna pay for spitting on me."

"And you're gonna pay for touching her!"

Paul turned around only to be knocked to the ground with one punch courtesy of Dean Ambrose.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 19**

Dean made it to Alyssa's side and aided her to a sitting position. Dean held her close in his arms as he brought her to her feet.

"Are you alright?" he asked her worriedly.

Alyssa could only nod. He inspected her right cheek touching it carefully. Dean seethed looking down at Paul, then turned his concerned blue eyes back to Alyssa.

"Alyssa, I need you to get out of here. My horse is tied up to a tree on the left side of the bridge. Get atop the bridge, stick by horse, and wait for me. Understand?"

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm gonna take care of Paul. Go. Now."

Alyssa wasted no time in heading to the top of the bridge. Dean watched her disappear. However, the very moment Dean turned around, Paul was back on his feet and socked Dean squarely on the jaw. Paul wrapped an arm around Dean's neck pulling him back towards him.

"Oh, Dean...I've looked forward to this moment."

Dean stomped on Paul's left foot, elbowed him in the ribs, grabbed hold of his arm twisting it behind his back causing Paul to groan in pain. Dean wrapped his own arm around Paul's neck.

"You're gonna wish you hadn't waited for this." Dean threw Paul to the ground and he landed stomach-first with a grunt. Paul looked up at Dean. "You like beating on women, let's see how you like getting beat on."

Paul rose to his feet chuckling softly. "I admire your courage, boy. But, I'm afraid...this is one fight you won't win."

"We'll see about that." Dean brought his fists up in front of him in a fighting stance, and Paul copied.

Paul took a swing at Dean, only to have Dean bring his arm up to block the blow. Dean connected with a right hook to Paul's nose. He landed a left-hook to Paul's cheek cutting it instantly. Dean brought up his foot to connect with Paul's midsection, then landed an upper cut sending Paul to the ground. Paul groaned holding his nose. Dean walked over to pick him Paul up off the ground.

When Paul was brought up to his feet, he landed a hard right to Dean's midsection causing him to double over. Paul drove his knee into Dean's stomach, staightened him up and connected with a few punches of his own to Dean's face, the last punch sending him to his knees. Paul bent over, grabbing a handful of Dean's hair and pulling him to a kneeling position.

"I'm not going to make this easy for you, Dean."

Dean socked Paul in the stomach, then rose to his feet and delivered a few more punches to Paul's face before he hit the ground. Dean reached for the handcuffs in his back jeans pocket.

"Get up, Paul. It's over...unless you want the beating to continue."

"No..." Paul groaned. "No more. Please.."

Dean reached down and grabbed Paul by the collar of his shirt, pulling him to his feet. Dean pulled Paul's arms behind his back. "You've lost, Paul. It's over."

Paul threw his head back into Dean's face, causing Dean to drop the handcuffs at his feet. Paul brought his left elbow up into Dean's nose breaking it instantly, then socked him hard sending him to the ground. Paul walked up and with his right foot, rolled Dean onto his back. Paul looked down at the beaten, battered, bloodied face of Dean Ambrose and shook his head in disgust.

"Pathetic..Completely pathetic."

With both hands, Paul reached down and grabbed Dean by the neck, Dean's hands wrapping around Paul's wrists. "GET UP!"

Dean rose to his feet with Paul still gripping his throat. He slammed Dean back-first into the tunnel wall underneath the bridge. Dean gagged, and gasped for his breath, but he couldn't draw a proper breath in cause Paul's grip was so tight around his throat.

"Look at you, Dean. Trying to be the hero. Trying to save the day. That's not what's gonna happen here, boy. I shot Randy and Batista, and buried them. Their bodies will never be found...and neither will yours."

Paul released his grip on Dean. Dean gasped and coughed trying to catch his breath. Paul retrieved the cuffs from the ground, then walked back over to where Dean lay and cuffed his wrists behind his back. Paul grabbed a bandana from his back jeans pocket and tied Dean's ankles together. Dean was officially defenseless. Paul delivered a couple of kicks to Dean's midsection. Paul simply shook his head again before walking over to his horse on the other side of the bridge tunnel and reached into one of the saddlebags. His six-shooted fit comfortably in his hand. Paul turned his eyes back towards Dean, whom was struggling to rise to his knees. He eventually made it onto his knees. Paul scoffed in disbelief as he walked back towards the vulnerable Dean Ambrose.

"You know, any normal person would stay down from a beating like this."

"But I'm not...a normal person," Dean said between breaths. "I'm Dean Ambrose. I might go down...but I don't stay down."

"Well then, I guess I'm gonna have to change that...permanently."

With gun in hand, he struck Dean across the face, sending him on his stomach. Paul reached down and rolled Dean onto his back. He aimed the gun at Dean's face. "This is where it ends. It's over for you, Ambrose. Take a good look, Dean, cause this is the last thing you will ever see."

Dean eyed the barrel of the gun aiming directly at him. He had a feeling of what he was getting himself into today. He had a feeling something like this would happened. He feared that one day, Paul would find him, and kill him. In his mind, today was that day. He thought about the past few weeks and the events which took place, and the people whom entered his life. The sheriff's, Mark, and Alyssa...oh, Alyssa. How he loved her. He loved her and she loved him. If this was how his life was going to end knowing that Alyssa loved him, and that God forgave him of his sins that day at church, then he was ready to go.

"Any last words?"

"Thank you God, for forgiving me," Dean said with tears forming in his eyes. One single tear fell down his cheek as he spoke his 4 last words. "I love you, Alyssa."

Dean took one more deep breath before closing his eyes waiting for his end. One second, he heard Paul pull back the hammer of the gun, the next second, the sound of a gunshot filled the air.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 20**

Paul let out a scream as a bullet lodged into his right leg. He toppled on his left side clutching his bloody leg. Sheriff Reigns and Sheriff Rollins made their appearance known.

"I've got the big guy," Sheriff Reigns announced aiming his shotgun at Paul. " You get Dean." Sheriff Reigns walked over and kicked Paul's gun away from him, then rolled Paul onto his stomach and jammed the barrel of the shotgun into his back. "Put you hands behind your back, you piece of filth." Paul did as was demanded. Sheriff Reigns put his gun aside and got out his handcuffs and secured Paul's wrists behind his back.

"OW!" Paul exclaimed. "You're hurting me!"

Sheriff Reigns pulled Paul to his feet. "You're a grown man. You can handle it. Let's go."

Sheriff Reigns escorted Pual out to his horse while Sheriff Rollins removed the bandana and the handcuffs from Dean. He aided Dean to his feet.

"Easy, Dean. Take it slow."

Dean was panting and hurting from the beating he took. "Alyssa?"

"She's fine." Sheriff Rollins reassured him.\

"Thank God. Sheriff Michaels send you two?"

"Of course he did."

"Thank God for him too."

"Come on, Dean. Let's get you back to town and have you checked out by the doctor. You're a bit of a mess."

"Okay," Dean saiad before a groan escaped him from the pain in his ribs. "But...after I see Alyssa safe with her father first."

"Sure thing. Are you sure you can ride back?"

"I'll just take it slow."

Michelle brought a cup of water over to where Mark sat, near the sheriff's desk. Mark took it with shaky hands. Sheriff Michaels' ears perked up when he heard horses neighing outside his office. He got up from his desk and looked out the window. He watched the horses approach with Dean and Alyssa in the front.

"Praise the Lord!" came his reply. Mark and Michelle looked up at the Sheriff. He turned his eyes in Mark's direction. "Dean did it! She's home!"

Mark rapidly rose to his feet and was out the door in seconds. Dean was off his horse and assisting Alyssa to her feet safely on the ground.

"ALYSSA!" Mark hollered from the porch of the sheriff's office.

Alyssa turned to see her father walking towards her. "DAD!" She jogged to her father and he took her into his arms. Tears of joy streamed down their faces. He held her close and kissed her head repeatedly. Mark continued to hold his daughter close, letting her cry on his shoulder. Mark cast eyes on the battered Dean Ambrose. Mark motioned Dean over to where he and Alyssa stood.

"Dean...I owe you my life. Thank you for saving my daughter."

"You don't owe me a thing. You've done so much for me already."

"Looks like you've been through a heck of a fight. Maybe you need to go see the town doctor."

"I was going to. I wanted to make sure she was safe with you again. Besides that, I'm not the only one Paul raised his hand to."

Mark's eyebrows furrowed, then looked down at his daughter. He pushed her hair back and noticed, since the first time he had her back, a bruise on the right side of her face. As gentle as possible, he ran his thumb along her cheek. How could anybody hurt his daughter?

Mark looked up to see Sheriff Reigns and Sheriff Rollins pull somebody, with a bruised and bloody face of his own, off another horse. Mark didn't have to think hard about who this individual was. Mark released Alyssa and asked Dean to stand here by her side. Mark walked over to the two sheriffs and the criminal known as Paul Levesque. The sheriffs had a hold of each arm. Mark glanced at the man whom stood before him, his arms still restrained behind his back.

"You Paul Levesque?"

"Ah...you've heard of me."

"I wish I never did.

Paul turned his eyes towards Alyssa. "So she's your daughter, huh?" He laughed sadistically. "Well, she's sure pretty. Good kisser too. Of course things got a little difficult and I had to get a little..._rough_ with her, as you could obviously see."

Mark could not believe what this man was saying, and without a care. Mark closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Mark turned his eyes towards his daughter, whom was being cradled in Dean's arms. He saw Michelle and Sheriff Michaels standing on the porch.

"Sheriff Michaels? Do you remember this past Sunday when you were preaching about forgiveness?"

"Yes."

"Please forgive me."

"For what?"

Mark turned his eyes towards Sheriff Reigns and Sheriff Rollins and asked them to step aside. Mark turned his attention back to Sheriff Michaels.

"This."

Mark balled up his fist, swung with all his might, and punched Paul right in the face. Paul staggered backwards until he fell flat on his back. The 3 sheriffs, Michelle, Dean, and Alyssa all gasped in shock and amaze. Paul groaned lowly, looking up at Mark, whom stood over him.

"What? More?"

Paul passed out at Mark's feet.

Sheriff Reigns and Sheriff Rollins: "Whoa..."

Sheriff Michaels and Michelle: "Mark!"

Dean: "Mr. Calaway!"

Alyssa: "DAD!"

Mark cast his eyes at the people surrounding him. "What?" he asked with a shrug. "At least I didn't kill him."


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Dean was sitting in the doctors office getting his ribs wrapped up. He walked away from the fight with his uncle with black eyes, brusied cheeks and ribs, and his life. He was very lucky to be alive right now. He thanked God he was alive.

"Well, young man," the doctor said. "Looks like you were in a heck of a battle."

"You can say that again," Dean answered.

"Well, remember the same instructions I gave you the last time."

"Yes, sir."

"Good, lad."

The doctor walked out of the office to check on another patient. Dean rose from a chair in the office and walked over to a mirror. He looked at the bruises and cuts on his face. He looked at his ribcage all wrapped up. He shook his head. He even admitted to himself he took quite a beating. But it was all worth it. He would go through it again, every punch, every kick, all of it for Alyssa. And speaking of which, in the reflection of the mirror, he saw Alyssa peeking around the corner of the door frame. Dean turned to see her eyeing him. She placed a hand up to her lips in an attempt to hide a smile. A blush appeared on her cheeks as she stared at his physique. It was then Dean forgot that his upper torso was still exposed. Dean chuckled nervously and a blush crept across his face.

"Um...excuse me." Dean apologized.

"I'm sorry to intrude. I just wanted to check on you."

Dean walked over to the operating table to pick up his shirt. Alyssa walked into the room and up to Dean.

"Could I help you with that?"

"Please."

Alyssa took the shirt from his hand, her finger tips touching his in the process. Dean turned around so Alyssa could hold open the shirt for him to slip his arms through the sleeves. He flinched a little and seethed at the pain. Alyssa carefully slipped the shirt onto his back. Dean then turned around to face her.

"Here. Let me help you with the buttons."

"Oh...thanks."

Alyssa started from the bottom button and worked her way upward until the last button was in place. She reached up and adjusted his collar.

"There. All better...for the most part anyway."

"Thank you. Are you okay?"

"You're the one who got the daylights beaten out of and you're asking _me _if I'm okay?"

"Well..." Dean shrugged his shoulders.

"Yeah. I'm okay. Are you?"

"I'll be okay."

Dean reached up and caressed Alyssa's bruised cheek. "Alyssa, I'm so sorry this happened to you."

"This is not your fault. You should not blame yourself for what happened. Please."

"But..."

"Dean. You saved my life. And for that..."

Alyssa stood on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Dean blinked rapidly in shock.

"Well in that case..." Dean leaned down and kissed her softly as if a butterfly landed on her cheek.

She looked at him, her eyes full of emotion. "I love you, Dean."

Dean looked down at her with just as much emotion in his eyes. "I love you too, Alyssa."

Dean pulled Alyssa into a hug wincing at the pain, but he didn't care. The only thing he cared about was Alyssa

Mark and Michelle sat outside of the doctors office. Michelle was resting her head on Mark's right shoulder.

"Mark?"

"Hmm?"

"Could I ask you a question?"

"What is it?"

"What do you think about Dean and Alyssa together?"

"I have no problem with it. The signs were there from the beginning, and it was only a matter of time. What do you think?"

"I think they make a cute couple. I like Dean alot. And quite frankly, I think Morgan would have too. Can I ask you something else?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"How did it feel hitting that man?"

Mark looked down at his wrapped hand. "It felt good actually."

"Does it hurt?"

"Nah. Just a little sore. But..."

"But..."

"But my lips aren't sore."

Michelle looked up at Mark, whom looked down at her with a wink of his eye. She adjusted herself in front of him. She leaned forward and kissed him lovingly on the lips. The kiss was broken seconds later.

"I love you, Mark."

"I love you too, Michelle."


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Dean was up in his room at the Calaway Ranch reading in his bed when he heard a soft knock at his door.

"Come on in."

The door opened to reveal Mark standing in the doorway, folded up blanket in hand. "Hey, Dean."

"Hey, Mark."

"I um...brought an extra blanket for you. I hear it's supposed to be quite cool tonight."

"Oh, thank you."

Mark walked over and placed the blanket at the foot of Dean's bed. Dean sat upright, his back against a wall. He turned the upper corner of the page he was reading to mark his spot, then placed the book aside. "How's Alyssa doing?"

"She's doing okay. We'll see how she is in the morning."

"I'm sorry for what happened to Alyssa."

"It's not your fault, Dean," Mark said walking over to pat Dean on the shoulder. "The main thing is she's safe. You're safe. That's all that matters. Alright?"

"Yeah."

"Speaking of apologies, I uh...hope there's no hard feelings on my actions towards you at the sheriff's office earlier today."

"None whatsoever, Mark. If it were my daughter, I would have been the same way. So, no worries."

"Good. I'm glad. Have a good night."

Mark went to walk away only to have Dean speak his name. "Mark? Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he answered turning back to Dean.

"When this whole thing started, you said you weren't the same man you were 5 years ago. What did you mean by that?"

Mark sighed deeply before walking over to the bed and sitting at a nearby chair. He looked down at the floor, clasping his hands together in front of him, then locked eyes with Dean to tell his story.

"After Morgan died, I took up drinking. It went on a couple of months before Alyssa found out. She said she was in my office to borrow a pen when she found the bottle in my desk. She found me in the barn working and confronted me about it. She was pretty upset shaking the bottle at me. I told her I was sorry, but it wasn't good enough for her. She threw the bottle of booze at a closed barn door shattering it to pieces.

I approached Alyssa raising my voice, and she gave it right back to me. I said some things, she said some things. The last thing she said was 'Drinking yourself into a drunken state is not gonna bring mom back to life'. That's when I snapped."

There was a brief pause before Dean asked. "What happened?"

Mark sighed another heavy breath before answering. "I hit her."

Dean's eyes widened slightly, then gulped. "You..."

"I slapped her so hard, she crumbled to the barn floor. I looked down at her in shock on what I had done. I didin't realize what I had done until I had done it. My knees buckled and I knelt at her side. I remember saying her name and picked her up into my arms. She looked up at me with tears streaming down her face. I cradled her close to my chest, tears falling down my face. I just held her and rocked her apologizing God knows how many times. I picked her up and carried her back to the house.

Later on that afternoon, we sat in the living room talking for a long time. I told her that I thought drinking would make me feel better. I thought it would make the pain go away, but it just made the pain grow. I told Alyssa that she was right to break that bottle. I told her that from that moment on, I would not have another drop of liquor fall on my lips. With her help, I made it happen. I never drank again. I never laid a hand on her ever again. I asked her to give me a second chance. You know what she told me?"

"What?"

"She said 'Everybody deserves a second chance.' I pulled her into a hug asking her to forgive me once more. She did. She forgave me even though I felt I didn't deserve it, and for that, I am eternally grateful to her."

Dean let the final words of the story sink in. "So is she the reason why you helped me, cause she helped you?"

"Yes. It's because of her help, I made a vow to myself to help somebody in need one day. That person was you, Dean Ambrose."

Dean took a deep breath before speaking once more. "Mark, I lost my dad when I was a teenager. Ever since I met you, and you took me in, I felt like I had a second father, which is exactly what I consider you as."

"That means a lot to me, Dean. Thank you."

"No. Thank you, Mark Calaway."

Dean extended his left hand, knowing Mark's right hand was wrapped, and Mark gladly accepted it in a handshake.

"Tell you what, why don't you get some sleep and the 3 of us can talk a little more tomorrow about your relationship with Alyssa."

"Sure."

Mark rose from his chair and reached for the extra blanket pulling it over Dean's body. He turned towards the doorway, but stopped in the middle of the room to turn his eyes in Dean's direction.

"But I will say this, I don't remember the last time I'd seen Alyssa so happy than when she's with you. I've always wanted her to find somebody to love her. I'm pretty sure she has found that in you."

Dean smiled up at Mark and Mark gladly returned the smile. "So...you're okay with Alyssa and myself?"

"Sure," Mark said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Besides, I like you a lot more that the other guys I've buried in the backyard. Did Alyssa tell you I'm a part-time Undertaker?"

Dean gulped loudly causing Mark to laugh out loud. "Relax, Dean. It's just a joke."

Dean looked at him shocked and confused before answering. "Um...oh."

Mark chuckled deeply. "Good night, Dean."

"Good night, Mark," Dean said getting more comfortable.

Mark walked out of the room closing the door behind him. He turned to his left to head to his room only to see Alyssa standing against the wall, arms crossed over her chest.

"I thought you went to bed already."

"I wasn't going anywhere before telling you good night," she said walking up to her father.

She wrapped her arms around her father's waist as he leaned down to kiss his daughter on the forehead. "Good night, sweetie."

"Good night, dad."

Alyssa and Mark turned to walk towards their rooms. Before Alyssa walked into her room, she just had to ask. "Hey, Dad."

"Yeah?" he responded.

" A 'Part-time Undertaker' huh?"

Mark made a face as if her were busted in a prank. "You heard that, huh?"

"Mmm-hmm. Must you pick on him?"

Mark could only snicker evily as he walked into his room, shutting the door behind him. Alyssa sighed softly shaking her head before turning into her room to sleep for the night.


	24. Chapter 24: One Year Later

**Before you read this chapter, I just want to thank all of the readers for reading this story. I have had a lot of fun writing it. This was my first Dean Ambrose story (and I doubt it will be my last) and my first Romance Western. The names used in this story are properties of the WWE and were used for entertainment purposes only. Alyssa Calaway and the name of the town were my creations. I hope you all have enjoyed this story. Please feel free to check out the other stories I have posted on this site. Thank you all for reading this and I appreciate each and everyone of you. And now ladies and gentlemen, I give you the conclusion of Second Chance: A Dean Ambrose Story.**

** Thank you and Much Love. God Bless. **

**Chapter 24: One Year Later**

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls of Westpoint Ridge," Sheriff Shawn Michaels began as he stood at the microphone on the stage in town hall. "Today is a wonderful day. A day of celebration and new beginnings. First off, let me say that I am so proud of these men, to my left, up here on this stage; Sheriff Roman Reigns and Sheriff Seth Rollins."

The two young sheriffs waved to the crowd as they applauded.

"But now, we welcome a new member to the law enforcement. The man standing to my right has come a long way in the past year and here he is today as your brand new sheriff of Westpoint Ridge. Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I give you Sheriff Dean Ambrose. Step up here, young man."

Dean Ambrose, now Sheriff Ambrose was dressed head to toe in black and had a light stubble to his face. He stepped forward towards Sheriff Michaels. Sheriff Michaels attached a sheriff's star to the lapel of Dean's black vest.

"Congratulations, Dean. You've earned this. You've worked so hard for this. Now please step up to the mic and say a few words."

Sheriff Michaels stepped aside letting Dean stand at the mic stand. Dean softly cleared his throat before he began speaking.

"Ahem. Um...I never was good speaking in front of big crowds so please, bare with me." This got a light laugh from the crowd as well as himself. "Um...like Sheriff Michaels said, this is a day of new beginnings and celebration. I'm humbled, honored, and privileged to be sharing this day with you, as well as becoming your new sheriff. There are some people I want to thank. First and foremost, I want to thank God for His guidance on my life. I want to thank these 3 men up here on the stage with me today. I also want to thank all of you fine people of Westpoint Ridge.

"I also want to thank Mark Calaway and his wife, Michelle McCool Calaway, for taking a chance on me. They're sititng right here in the front row." Mark and Michelle stood and gave a little wave to the crowd as they were applauded. Before sitting down, Mark looked up at Dean and gave a little wink and Dean gladly returned it. Dean turned his eyes towards the Heavens. " I wish to thank my two very special guardian angels, my mother Heather and my father Hank. I hope I have made you two proud. And last, but certainly not the least, I would like to thank the most beautiful woman in my life, the woman I am proud to say is my wife, the love of my life, Alyssa Calaway Ambrose."

Alyssa stood and waved to the crowd as they applauded her. "Alyssa, you are my heart and my soul. Thank you for believing in me and teaching me to believe in myself. I love you."

Alyssa walked up to the stage and Dean walked towards her, removing his black hat and placing a quick peck on the lips. "I love you too, Dean." She gave him another quick peck before going to sit back down at her seat. Dean readjusted the hat onto his head before stepping up to the microphone once more.

"And...that's it."

Sheriff Michaels stepped up to the mic one more time. "Ladies and gentlemen, Sheriff Dean Ambrose!"

Everyone stood and applauded as Dean waved to the crowd and took a bow. Sheriff Rollins and Sheriff Reigns stood forward and shook hands with their friend and companion, slapping him on the back. With Sheriff Rollins to the left, Sheriff Reigns in the middle and Sheriff Ambrose to the right, each mach stuck their balled-up fist outward until they connected. This had been their code of brotherhood and friendship over the past year.

Mark, Michelle, Dean, Alyssa, Seth and Roman sat outside at a table dining on cornbread and stew after the ceremony was over.

"So, Dean," Michelle began to ask. "How does it feel to be sheriff?"

"Well, I feel pretty good. Now if only I can keep these two baboons," he said pointing to Seth and Roman, "in line."

The table erupted in laughter.

"I'm sure you'll have no problem with that," Mark said.

Dean looked down at the badge on his vest. "Sheriff Dean Ambrose. I'm not so sure I'm going to get used to this."

"Oh you will," Roman stated. "It will take time."

"Yeah." Dean agreed.

"Let me tell you something, Dean," Seth started pointing to the badge on his vest. "This is not just a badge. It's a way of life. It's good against evil; right against wrong. Justice against injustice. We...are the hounds of justice."

Roman turned an eye towards Seth. "Uh...the hounds of justice?"

"Let me finish, big man." Seth said holding up one hand towards his friend. "I repeat: this not just a badge, it's a shield. It's what we believe in. We believe in justice, we believe in good, we believe in right from wrong. Believe in that and believe in the shield. Hey, you know what? That could be our name for our group. The Shield. The 3 of us. Think about it."

Dean and Roman looked at each other, thought it over, then nodded. "I like it," Roman said.

"Me too." Dean said.

Seth balled up his fist, sticking it outward. "The Hounds of Justice."

Roman repeated Seth's motion. "The Shield."

Dean repeated the motion also. "Believe...in the shield."

Mark, Michelle, and Alyssa laughed again at the antics of the 3 men sitting across the table from them.

"We are very proud of you and the man you have become." Michelle said. "Wouldn't you agree, Mark?"

"Absolutely. What do you think, Alyssa?"

Alyssa rose from her seat at the table and walked over to where Dean sat. She removed the hat from his head, sitting it down on the table, then took his face into her hands.

"Does this answer your question?"

Alyssa leaned down and kissed Dean lovingly on the mouth pouring all her love into it. Dean brought his hand up and ran his fingers through her hair as he held her close, kissing her back just as lovingly. Dean pulled her down onto his lap as the kiss continued for another 5 or so seconds. They broke apart for air, gazing into each others eyes. Just then, they heard the band near them began to play a lively tune.

"May I have this dance, Mrs. Ambrose?"

"Yes you may, Mr. Ambrose."

Alyssa rose from Dean's lap as Dean placed the hat back ontop of his head. He led her to where other couples gathered around to dance. They laughed and twirled as the song played on.

Now at 30 years of age, Dean never thought his life would have ever been like this. But he was very thankful. He learned a lot this past year. But the most important lesson he learned was this. No matter where you're from, no matter where you've been, no matter who you are, everybody deserves a second chance; even if your name is Dean Ambrose.

**THE END**


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